The Girl with the Mousey Hair
by girlwithmouseyhair
Summary: Gene Hunt is on the Chase, he doesn't know what Christine has done, but anyone that runs from the police must have done something wrong, right?
1. Chapter 1

**THE GIRL WITH THE MOUSEY HAIR**

Chrissy ran. She ran from her past, from her nightmares, from the fear that eats away at her every day and night of her life. But more than that,

she ran from the man behind her. Risking a look over her shoulder she could tell that although he wasn't catching up he was managing to keep

pace with her.

The runner in her was impressed by the speed of this aging man. Spying the entrance to an alleyway she pulled a hard left and smiled when she

heard footsteps desperately trying to change direction behind her. 'Okay, he may have the speed, but he doesn't have the skills.' She thought as

she ran towards a low wall, with a jump and a bit of a scramble she had scaled it and was now running alongside the tennis courts. 'Just round

this corner and through the back of the flats and I'll be home free.'

Her legs pumped, the strain of inactivity was pulling at her thighs, but the pain made her smile. The wind rushed past, blowing brown curls across

her face and then whipping them out behind her. She could feel the thud in her chest, pulsing at the base of her throat, as though her heart

wanted to break free, escape the confines of it's prison, and Chrissy empathized with it. She was free now. Free to live as she wanted, how she

wanted, where she wanted. She was free to talk to whom she liked, without having to look over her shoulder.

Smiling at the irony, she looked over her shoulder one last time. Nobody was there. No one was lurking behind, waiting to trap her, beat her,

rape.....

"Aufgh!"

She stopped dead as she collided with something hard and black. Something hard and black and panting.

"Gotcha!"

As she rebounded, she felt herself falling backwards and would've hit the ground if arms hadn't shot out to steady her.

"What...do...you...think...you're...playing...at....!?"

Chest heaving, Chrissy tried to back away but the arms held her tight around the waist. He bent forward, trying to catch his breath and she felt

the arms loosen slightly. Trying to breathe slowly her mind raced. She had to run, get away, put as much distance between him and her. She

fought against the arms, kicking and hitting anything that she could reach. Her captor uttered an expletive and tried to hold her tighter,

he pushed her against the nearest wall to block her escape but this sent her into a more frenzied state. As his body pressed against her she

could hear herself screaming at him to get off, to get away from her, to back the hell off. She screamed and kicked until all the fight had left her

and her body began to give up. When she stopped her attack something registered with her.

He wasn't holding her any longer, in fact he'd taken a couple of steps backwards, not out of fear but to light up. Lifting her head, hair plastered

against her face from sweat and, amazingly, tears. She looked at her would be captor. He was tall and broad and sweating heavily in a long,

black overcoat. Head tilted to the side, he didn't take his eyes off of her as he lit the cigarette and squinted through the smoke.

"You finished your little episode now?" His voice was rough with little kindness in it.

Chrissy didn't answer, her heart thudded louder than ever, still trying to escape, but for another reason altogether now. 'Me too.' She thought as

looked for a way out of this trap.

"Don't try it love." Drawing on his cigarette, he pointed behind him. Over his shoulder she could see two other men approaching. One was ages

with him, with an unsightly tight perm and mustache, the other was younger with a gentle face. Bringing her attention back to her captor, she felt

the fear rise inside her. She was on her own, with three men. Three big men. Her 5' 3" frame was no match, she could out run them, but running

was no option, instead she cast her eyes around for a weapon, anything. There was a broken tree branch, but she'd have to get past the tallest

one with the black coat. She felt her chest heave as panic began to take over her body, and flinched as she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"STOP!" She screamed as the hand tightened around her arm, again she began to fight him.

"Get off me, get away!!" He didn't do anything, just kept his hand on her arm. Over his shoulder the other two had looks of amusement in their

eyes as they slowly began to approach.

She was crying now, hot tears running down her cheeks as she tried to flee.

"Don't! Don't!....._Please?!_"

Again she felt the fight leave her, she crumbled to the floor and he squatted down beside her, hand still round her arm. She had been so close.

Had tasted the freedom as she ran. But now....now it was over.

Sobbing quietly she spoke, "Fine! Who wants to go first?"

There was no answer and she wondered if she'd spoken it aloud. She looked up. His face was so close to hers, she could feel the dampness of

his face, could smell the sweat as it rolled down his face.

"Or is it just you? Like an audience do you? Just get on with it!"

She watched his eyes, something flashed in them, but she wouldn't look away. If this was to be her fate then she would face it, head on. His eyes

widened and he all but threw her arm away. Jumping up he turned to the others, the younger one looked confused. Mustache man was chuckling

quietly to himself.

"Jesus Love!" He spun back round to face her, forgetting for a moment that she was on the floor. Bending down he reached out a hand to her,

that was pulled back instantly as Chrissy flinched and shut her eyes, fate be damned.

"Jesus!"

Behind the darkness of her eyes, Chrissy hid and waited for the first touch. The first touch would tell her how it would go. A heavy handed touch

meant pain but quickness, a gentle touch meant that she probably wouldn't bruise, but would have to endure it for longer. The thought weighted

her heart. It had slowed now, it's beats so quiet that she was almost certain it had given up on her. 'I tried' she told herself 'I tried'. The silence in

the darkness suffocated her.

Opening her eyes a little, she was surprised at the realisation that she was alone. With shaking arms, she pushed against the wall behind her.

She could see people disappearing around the side of the tennis courts, heading towards the main street. Again, she pushed against the wall,

bringing her legs from under her she tried to stand, but they wouldn't hold her. Feeling her legs give way she sought the wall for support and

leant back, her mind racing. 'What had happened?'

Hearing voices heading back towards her she took a shaking step forward, her legs buckled and again she would've hit the ground if the arms

hadn't caught her. She turned her head and her froze. The black coated man hadn't gone, he'd been leaning against the wall a few feet from

where she was. His arms were still around her, holding her gently this time, but this didn't stop her body from arching away from him. Something

like hurt crossed in front of his eyes, but before she could process the expression he turned his head away and shouted something towards the

other end of the lane. Turning back to Chrissy, he helped her to her feet, ignoring the pained expression on her face. She could see that his eyes

were a crystal blue, they searched her face as gently as his touch.

She jumped with a start as someone touched her back, her body automatically flinched as she turned to face her new attacker. The arms around

her tightened slightly. With a fright she realised that she was looking into the face of a policewoman. A young, kind faced girl.

"Shaz" She heard his voice from behind her, and felt his breath in her hair. The warmth of his body still encircled her. "Take Christine here back to

the Nick."

"Yes Guv." Shaz took hold of her arm and pulled her gently away from her captor. Chrissy looked at him with shock coursing through her body.

Tilting his head slightly in acknowledgment, he held up a badge.

"DCI Gene Hunt, Love. It's been a pleasure."


	2. Chapter 2

"Who is she?"

The voice was female and well mannered, and at a tone low enough to suggest that Chrissy, with her back to them, was not meant to hear.

"I don't know, Ma'am. The Guv took the call."

Closing her eyes, Chrissy could put the second voice to the policelady from the alleyway, Shaz.

"Look at her, Shaz, she looks terrified."

"I know, Ma'am, Chris said she ran the minute she saw them. How old do you think she is?"

"Late teens, I'd say. 17 or 18. Get her surname from Viv. Find her school, her GP, anything. We need to ascertain if she has any mental problems. Thanks

Shaz."

The 'click clack' of heels rang out around the smoke filled room above the low rumblings of grown men, talking over each other. She could feel their eyes on

her, could always feel when a man looked at her. It was like knives, tiny little knives, stabbing at her. It made her skin itch. Sliding a hand under the sleeve

of her jacket, she absentmindedly scratched the surface, only stopping when she felt a buildup underneath her nails. The blood on her fingers, and the skin

under her nails surprised her. Holding her hand out in front of a desk lamp she watched as it slowly trickled down her middle finger, leaving a blood red trail

running over the bump of her wrist bone and dripping onto the floor.

"HEY!"

Physically jumping, Chrissy found herself standing by the chair, ready to run.

"Hey!" The voice lowered in tone and in volume. "Stop that." It was a plea more than an order.

It was the man from the alley, he'd shed his over coat and stood in wrinkled shirt and loosened tie. He made his way from the other end of the room,

slowly, taking great care not to seem threatening. She didn't remember his name.

"Why don't you sit back down, Christine?"

Looking around, she could see that now everyone really was looking at her. Turning her head, she could see the policewoman Shaz hovering behind him

looking concerned. Not taking her eyes from her she slowly eased back down into her chair. Beside Shaz was the woman with the polite voice. She wasn't

dressed like a member of the police, with dark trousers tucked into white boots and a blue top that was sliding off one shoulder, she looked more like one

of her step mums 'friends'. At the thought, Chrissy felt a shudder run the length of her spine.

"Right, everyone, get back to what you were doing." With a clap of his hands, the alley man stood in the middle of the room and Chrissy watched as

everyone jumped at his order. As normality resumed he approached Chrissy and crouched down in front of her, keeping an arms distance away. "Of course,

knowing the Pillocks in this room, that was either sleeping or playing cards!"

He waited for a response from her, his eyes flicking over her head to the polite woman, when she didn't speak.

"My name is Gene." Then gesturing over her head, "And this is Alex."

Still Chrissy didn't move, didn't speak. The cigarette smoke that blanketed the room was tickling the back of her throat and making her lightheaded. Visions

of smoke filled 'parties' pulled at her memory.

"Are you going to let us see where you're hurting?"

At this Chrissy laughed out loud. It was a sad, lonely laugh, ' Do you have all day?' She thought to herself.

Watching him, she could tell that he had taken the laughter as a good sign. And she wondered if he'd heard the hollowness of it and was choosing to

ignore it. And although she knew that he would use this opportunity to move closer, her body still involuntarily pulled away as he reached a hand out to her

sleeve. Looking defeated, his eyes moved to Alex, who placed a hand on Chrissy's shoulder. She felt her body tense up, and cast her eyes around to Shaz,

who stepped forward.

"I'll do it Ma'am." She tentatively held out her hand and Chrissy slowly rose, subtly shrugging the hand from her shoulder.

"My office, Shaz." He barked, emotion ruling his voice.

Nodding at her boss, Shaz led them slowly through the room. Knives were pricking her skin and when they stopped for Shaz to pick up a bottle of TCP and

some cotton balls, Chrissy started scratching at the back of her hand. Shaz watched the blood rise without saying anything, then moved on towards the

small office.

With the door shut and the blinds drawn, together they took off her jacket and rolled up her sleeve. Flesh tracks of blood criss crossed over old scars that

ran the length of her arm. Shaz slowly started to dab at the wounds.

* * *

"Who is she, Guv?"

Alex faced Gene, hands resting on the back of the chair that Chrissy had just vacated. He didn't answer. His eyes were drawn to the small puddle of blood

that had gathered on the floor.

"Gene?"

"We got a call to a burglary in Little Heath, down in Charlton. The front door was lying open, and lying bleeding all over the hallway was Barbara

Stephfield."

He nodded towards his office, "Her stepmum. Christine Stephfield was knelt down beside her, trying to stop the bleeding. She took one look at us and

legged it."

Biting back the obvious reply, Alex watched as Gene lifted his arm to scratch the back of his neck. Stopping mid-scratch, he looked at Alex.

"Why was she doing that to herself?"

"Self-harm." She said knowingly.

"I could see that she was _harming herself_, Drake I was asking Why?"

Slipping into her psychologist persona Alex explained; "Self harm refers to a wide spectrum of behaviour where injury is self-inflicted. The term self

mutilation is also sometimes used. A person that self injures uses it as a coping mechanism to relieve emotional pain or discomfort. The most common

involves making cuts in the skin or the arms, legs, abdomen etc, however burning, stabbing, poisoning, alcohol abuse, trichotillomania and dermatillomania

are also common."

"Thought it was too good to be true, you speaking English."

"Trichotillomania is hair pulling and Dermatillomania is skin picking." Gesturing towards the closed office Alex summed up, "Which is what I believe Christine

suffers from."

Gene walked to the nearest desk, which happened to be Alex's and sat on the edge, crossing his arms against his chest, with a weary sigh.

"Coping mechanism?"

Joining Gene at her desk, Alex sat in the chair. "It's often associated with concern over their sexuality, being bullied at school, or physical and sexual

abuse."

"You only have to look at her, Alex, to know which of them it is. Bastards!!"

Looking around the room, Alex silently agreed with the abuse theory. She had physically recoiled from contact with Gene, but she had also tensed under

her own hand. It may not just be the 'bastards' that they were dealing with.

A tall black man in uniform entered followed by a much shorter man, wringing his hands and looking nervously around the room. Approaching the desk, Viv

gestured to the visitor,

"Mr Stephfield, Guv. Christine's dad." With a nod at Alex he turned and left.

"Please, call me Tony." He shook hands with Gene and smiled anxiously at Alex. "The hospital told me that you had taken Christine here?" There was

uncertainty in his voice, he clearly didn't understand why Christine had been brought here instead of to the hospital.

"How is your wife, Tony?" Alex asked gently as she eyed Gene. She didn't like the way that he was looking at the very nervous dad.

"Unconscious. They hit her with a lamp and then tried to choke the life out of her with the flex." He gave a shudder and put his head in his hands.

"Do you have any idea who could've done this?" She watched Gene stand and pace behind Tony, arms still crossed, shooting looks at the closed door of his

office.

"No, I mean, we have a nice house but there isn't really anything worth a lot of....."

"Was anything taken?" Gene interrupted, in a not very friendly voice.

Stammering, Tony turned to face him, but Gene kept moving. "I don't....I don't know. I'm sorry. I know I should've checked but I wanted to get to the

hospital...and when they told me about Christine...well I came straight here." He turned to Alex, "I am sorry."

"It's okay, Mr Stephfield, you can make a list of anything that's missing when you get..."

"Mr Stephfield," Gene interrupted again, "Do you have any idea why your daughter would run from the police?"

"Run? No...I mean, she ran? Why would she...."

Unimpressed, Gene interrupted a third time, "Okay, try this. Do you have any idea why your teenage daughter would offer herself to three, male members

of the police force, when backed into an alley?"

"What?"

"Gene." Alex said gently, she didn't know all of the facts, but knew that bringing them up now before they'd spoken to Christine was a bad idea. She also

knew that Gene had linked everything they had discussed back to this man and was close to boiling point.

"Can you tell me, Mr Stephfield, Why your daughter flinches from the touch of a stranger?! Why there is a look of absolute terror in her eyes when someone

looks in her direction!? Why your teenage daughter sat in that chair there, picking the skin off of her own arm as a way of 'coping' when in a room full of

men??"

He was red in the face and inches from Tony Stephfield. Rage emitting from the pores on his body.

The sound of the office door opening caused them all to turn. Shaz appeared, holding Christine's coat and looking as though she had seen a ghost.

"Shaz?" Alex asked, getting up out of her chair. Fear battered her stomach as she thought of what Christine could have done to herself after hearing Gene

verbally attacking Tony Stephfield. But before she could do anything else, Christine emerged. Alex marvelled at the change in the girl. She was smiling and

no longer hunched over, trying to disappear into herself. She didn't look anything like the scared, little girl they had brought in. She looked beautiful and

radiant, and much older than 15 or 16.

"Thanks Shaz." She spoke in a friendly, upbeat voice. Taking the jacket from the young police woman, she shrugged it on and walked confidently down to

her dad.

"How's Barbara?" She asked moving closer, delibirately brushing past Gene. He knew that the shock on Alex's face must reflect his.

"Mr Hunt here was looking after me. I got such a fright when I saw her on the floor." She linked linked an arm through Genes. "I don't know what I

would've done if he hadn't been there for me." Tugging slightly at his arm she smiled sweetly up at him, all traces of fear gone from her face.

"Right! Well! Thank you, Mr Hunt." Tony Stephfield patted his jacket, looking for keys. "Okay, so can we go then? I really should get back to the hospital.

Christine can make a note of anything that's been taken from the house."

Alex was the first to recover and made her way around her desk, shaking hands with Christine's dad.

"Of course, we'll be in touch with you with regards to the burglary and the attack on your wife." As they turned towards the door, Alex's jaw dropped as

she watched Christine throw her arms around Gene.

She pulled herself up to his height and put her lips to his ear, without thinking he held her and was slightly stunned when instead of pulling away she leant

into him, pressing her body against his.

They watched as she whispered something into his ear. His eyes widened, and his grip on her tightened. She looked at him, eye to eye before releasing her

hold on him.

"Thanks again, Mr Hunt." And with that followed her dad through the door.

The silence between Gene and Alex stretched through the room.

"What did she say?" Alex asked incredulously. But was interrupted by the ringing of the nearby fax machine, she watched Shaz reach for it before turning

back to Gene.

"What did she say?"

"Ma'am, it's the information that you requested on Christine Stephfield."

"And?" Alex was watching Gene, there was a look on his face that she hadn't seen before.

"Well, it's got her highschool here, but...."

Impatiently, Alex grabbed the fax from Shaz, she scanned it before looking up. "She left school years ago. She's, twenty later this month."

The only reaction from Gene was a slight flicker in his eyes. He was thinking about Christine Stephfield pressing her body to his and the relief at knowing

the twinge of pleasure he'd felt wouldn't get him locked up.

"Gene?"

Looking around, he saw Alex and Shaz looking at him, he could feel the other members of CID watching him.

"She did it. She tried to kill her. And she said she'll try again.!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chrissy stood in the rain. Watching. She had seen people come and go, policemen with struggling prisoners, policewomen with crying relatives. She had

watched the door since her dad had dropped her at the corner of the street. He hadn't spoken one word to her, just circled the station once with Chrissy in

the car and then stopped at the corner. She hadn't tried to protest, knew it was pointless, he didn't want her. Closing the door gently behind her, so as to

avoid punishment, she'd crossed to where she stood now soaked through and shivering from the chill of the rain.

Sudden voices startled her and she retreated into the safety of a shuttered doorway. The voices disappeared again, as though a door had closed on them.

Looking back to the street she saw that she'd been watching the wrong building. Gene Hunt had appeared on the pavement outside a basement

restaurant. She watched as he began walking her way.

The emotion she felt in her chest wasn't all fear, something about him calmed her. She waited for him to come closer and stepped out of the darkness into

the orange glow of the street light.

"Jesus Jones!" He stopped short staring at Chrissy. "What are you doing out here?" He asked roughly, looking up and down the street for signs of her dad.

She didn't answer, instead looked over her shoulder, "Where is your car?" Her voice tore at her throat, she wasn't used to using this voice, her own voice.

Not that of a child, or that of a woman. Without hesitation he nodded over her shoulder, Chrissy turned and took a step backwards indicating to him to lead

the way. He looked at her questioningly for a second, before walking on, careful to keep his distance from her.

Standing behind him she watched him unlock the passenger door and open it, walk around to the other side of the car and get in. Chrissy was relieved that

he didn't wait to hold the door open for her, her legs shook as she lowered herself into the car and she had to hold onto the frame for support. Without

speaking he started the car, turned up the heat and faced all of the heaters in her direction as she stared out of the front window

They sat in silence for a while, watching the rain bounce off of the windshield. As her fingers began to tingle, warming up, she turned slightly in her seat,

ready to talk to him. With a jolt she realised that he'd already turned round and was watching her with a curious expression on his face. She hadn't felt the

prick of knives and heart jumped a little at the thought.

He looked tired and unhappy, and she wondered what she looked like to him.

"What's going on, Christine?"

She looked down at her fingers, bright red from the cold. "It's Chrissy." She answered quietly, suddenly afraid for a new reason, and not quite

understanding the change.

Tilting his head so that he was in her range of sight, "Chrissy. What's wrong?"

"I'm scared."

"Of your dad?"

Her eyes flicked to his and then away again, "No."

"Of me?" He asked softly.

"No." With a careful breath she raised her head and looked at him, "Not anymore."

His eyes searched her face, before he turned away from her. He put the car into gear and pulled away from the kerb. Chrissy stayed silent, keeping her

eyes on him, watching him in profile. He didn't look back her, kept his eyes forward.

Standing on the top step of the basement restaurant Alex and Shaz watched as they drove away, a look of concern etched on both faces.

* * *

"Where are we?"

He didn't answer. He cut the engine, took the key from the ignition and stared out of the windscreen, his gloved hands clenched around the steering wheel.

Indecison clearly written on his face.

Finally he got out of the car, walked around to Chrissy's side and opened the door. The rain had changed from heavy lashes to a gentle drizzle that tickled

her face. He still didn't look at her as she got out of the car and rested her hand on his, she watched his face as he looked at both hands on the frame of

the door. A minute passed before he withdrew his hand and made to shut the door. Moving out of the way she looked at the terraced houses in front of

her, wondering where he'd brought her. And alarmed at the lack of fear she felt.

"Where are we?" She asked again as he walked towards the front door of the nearest house.

"My place." He called over his shoulder, as he opened the door and disappeared inside.

Now she felt the fear. Albeit less intense than usual. Her heart sped up and she could feel her chest getting tighter as she backed slowly to the car. Feeling

the wet metal behind her she stopped and looked at the door that he'd left open. She'd read him wrong, she'd thought she could trust him. She hadn't felt

pain when she was with him, in fact she'd felt almost safe when they'd been in the car. And when she'd hugged him at the station there was no sick feeling

in the pit of her stomach. Maybe her step mother was right, maybe this was what they all wanted. Expected.

His figure filled the doorway. His silhouette was broad and tall, he stood watching her for a moment before heading down the path, carrying something in

his hands.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Chrissy." His voice was soft and careful.

He pushed the bundle in his arms towards her. "These are all I could find. You'd better get changed quick before they get wet too." He stepped back and

gestured towards the door.

Chrissy didn't move, she didn't like having to walk ahead of them, didn't like having her back exposed. Taking another step back he waved his car keys in

the air, "I'm not coming in, I'm off to the hospital." Moving around to the driver side of the car he opened his door.

He called out roughly, "Get in the house, before you give the neighbours something to talk about!" There was humour in his voice and she felt a smile pull

at her mouth as she headed towards the house. Turning she saw he was in the car waiting for her to get inside, he lifted a hand to her and drove off.


	4. Chapter 4

The inside of the Italian restaurant was loud and chaotic, Shaz and Alex made their way through the throng of male bodies each as drunk and over weight

as the other. They sat at a small intimate table for two away from the main seating area and Alex signalled to Luigi, the harrased owner, who headed over

with a bottle of wine.

"Thank you, Luigi." Alex said, throwing him a smile. His face lit up and he bowed to the girls before the weary expression returned and he walked back to

the bar.

Alex poured two glasses of the red wine and handed one to Shaz who took it with smile. "Thanks Ma'am."

After taking a drink, Alex smiled at Shaz, "So, Shaz, what do you make of our Christine Stephfield? Is she acting the victim?"

"I don't think so Ma'am, she was really shaking in the office and in the lane with the Guv too." A frown creased Shaz's forehead, "But she hugged him,

Ma'am, after trying to get away from him. And Chris and Ray" She added as an afterthought.

"And me, Shaz."

Shaz ducked her shoulders a little, "I saw that too, she looked more scared at having your hand on her shoulder than she did with the Guvs arms 'round

her."

Alex stopped mid-sip, "He had his arms around her?"

"When I came up to her in the lane, Ma'am, she was looking at the Guv and when I touched her back she jumped 'round and sort of ended up in his arms."

Sensing what Alex was going to say she added, "But she did look scared, and the Guv' didn't mean to. That's just what you do, isn't it? When someone

jumps into you you put your arms 'round them, don't even think about it."

"Mm!" Alex didn't speak as she thought about Christine. Either she was a very good actress or she truly has something to fear. But not Gene, not anymore.

And not really Shaz either. Christine had looked almost calm when she was with Shaz. Alex looked up at Shaz and saw that she was watching Chris at the

other end of the room. He was laughing and making jokes with the rest of CID, but Alex knew that he was only trying his very best to fit in with them. He

was younger than the rest and, with Shaz's influence, more sensitive than the lot of them put together. He caught Shaz's eye and smiled, a doe eyed

expression crossing his face, which earned him a dig in the ribs from Ray. Alex smiled at Shaz, it made sense that Christine felt at ease with Shaz, there

wasn't one person in the whole of CID that didn't. Herself included. No. What troubled Alex was Christine's reaction to Gene.

"Why was she waiting from him, Ma'am?"

"What's that, Shaz?" Alex asked, pulling her thoughts away from Gene Hunt and the look on his face when Christine had pressed her body to his.

"Why was she standing out in the rain?"

"I don't know, Shaz, I really don't."

"Maybe she was waiting for any one of us and he was the first one that came by?"

"Could be." Alex acknowledged "But why didn't the Guv come to us, and where did they go?" Inspiration struck as Alex drained her wine glass. "Shaz,

what's the Guvs address?"

Shaz looked at Alex anxiously, "He wouldn't take her to his place, Ma'am, not knowing how she is with men."

Alex was already standing, putting her jacket on, "No, probably not, but I should check anyway." Alex was thinking of the look on Gene's face after Christine

had left the station, around about the time that Shaz had announced Christine's real age.

Shaz half stood from her chair, "Will I come too Ma'am? Just incase she's, you know, scared again?" She didn't mention that Christine was afraid of Alex and

not Shaz, and neither did Alex.

Alex shook her head, "It's okay. I'll get someone from the station to take me in a Panda. The address?"

Shaz took a pen from her bag and wrote on the back of a beer mat. She handed it to Alex with a worried look, Alex took it and all but ran out of the

restaurant.

* * *

Barbara Stephfield looked a lot better than she had the last time Gene had seen her. The blood had been washed off her face and her hair was under a

white bandage, the parts that he could see were still slightly red and matted. Turning towards the doorway, she sat up when she saw him approach her

bed.

"Hello." Her manicured voice had been well trained to hide her upbringing, but Gene could hear the commonness behind the facade. As he reached the bed

he noticed that she'd managed to apply makeup that barely concealed bruising underneath.

"Mrs Stephfield" he began, standing at the end of her bed.

"Barbara, please. And you must be the police?" She extended her hand for him to shake but he turned to lift a chair over to the bed using it as an excuse

not to.

He couldn't deny that Chrissy had admitted the attack, but something about the way that she had transformed from being terrified to over the top confident

when she heard her dad at the station just didn't sit right with him. She'd denied being afraid of her father and Barbara Stephfield was the only clue left to

working out what was wrong with her. Thinking back to how she had frozen under Drakes hand and the shiver that had ran through her body when she

laid eyes on Alex made Gene think that Barbara Stephfield wasn't exactly the loving step mother. He had believed Chrissy when she told him that she'd

tried to kill her step mum. Now he needed to know why she had done it and what Barbara had done to Chrissy to deserve it. His consience nudged him a

little over his quick judgement of the stepmum and his unsupported belief in Chrissy but he chose to ignore it. Instead he sat down on the plastic chair, took

off his gloves and waited for Barbara to say something.

"How is Christine?" An unpleasant look crossed her face as she spoke her name but obviously believed that this is what Gene wanted to hear.

"Scared shitless. And you?" She narrowed her eye slightly sensing his tone.

"I'm a little tender, but other than that I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I'm sure you will be." He watched her lift a hand to her neck and touched the bruising that was left over from the attack. Chrissy must have really wanted

to hurt her, the flex from the lamp had caused deep grooves around the neck, which had already turned purple. "Can you think of any reason why Chrissy

would want to hurt you?"

Barbara blinked as she realised he knew the truth, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile as she realised he had called her Chrissy.

"Christine?" She asked innocently, "I think you have it wrong, Christine was trying to help me."

"It didn't look like that from where I was standing. If she was helping you, why did she run away when I entered the room?"

"Maybe she felt intimidated."

"Intimidated?"

"Afraid, then. You cut quite the imposing figure, Mr...?"

"DCI. Hunt. I may be imposing, Ms Stephfield. But it wasn't me that you're daughter was running away from."

"Step daughter, Mr Hunt."

"It's not me that your _step _daughter is afraid of."

Barabara looked at him thoughtfully, "Is that so? I always thought that Christine was afraid of most things. Most men. I wonder what makes you so

special."

Gene ignored her, "Why did she attack you?"

"Perhaps she is jealous of me." Gene snorted at this and a menacing look flashed across her face. "Her father and she used to be close, before I came into

the picture. Maybe she feels a little left out."

"How close were they?"

"Very close." She leant forward in her bed, the top of her hospital gown revealing a black lace bra. The gesture was obviously for his benefit and he kept

his eyes firmly on her sour face. "Some might even say too close." She smiled maliciously and leant back on her pillow waiting for Gene's reaction.

"It's funny, Ms Stephfield."

"What is?" she asked irritated in his lack of interest in the little show that she put on.

"Most men, when they remarry go for a younger model. Why didn't Tony?" He watched her nostrils flair as she tried to answer. He didn't give her the satisfaction. "Why did Tony Stephfield choose a middleaged, piece of mutton from the wrong side of the council estate?"

"I...I don't..." Barbara stammered.

"You're jealous! Jealous of Chrissy. An eighteen year old girl. A beautiful, young lady who could probably have her pick from anyone. What did you do to her?" There was silence as Barbara crossed her arms across her chest and glared at Gene. "What did you do? Hit her? Beat her?"

"I didn't lay a single finger on that little slut!" Anger flashed onto her face, "You're right, she could have had her pick of men, and let me tell you Mr Hunt, she picked the lot. Man after man she trailed into the house, waved them under my nose. Shagged them in the room next to me. I could hear her, moaning and crying out, night after night, week after week. I could hear her, Mr Hunt and so could her father. She chased away her fathers love for her by screwing around." She stopped, her chest heaving from the exersion, her voice ringing around the walls of the empty ward.

Gene's ears rang with Barbara's accusations. "And yet you say that she is afraid of men? That's rather curious behaviour for someone so terrified." Gene stood up slowly, turned around and made to leave. "Thank you, Ms Stephfield, I think I have everything that I need for now."

"Oh, DCI Hunt?" He paused mid step and turned back to face Barbara, "Like I say, she lost her father's love. But if you play your cards right, as I suspect you are already doing, she may find a replacement in you." His stomache lurched as she grinned up at him, "If you are very, very lucky. From what I heard she is a very good little shag!"


	5. Chapter 5

As the kettle boiled Chrissy made her way from room to room. Gene Hunt was certainly not a slave to housework. Stepping over newspapers and dirty mugs that littered the floor she moved from the front room to the hallway. Pausing briefly she turned the handle on the door that led to the only bedroom in the house. She was greeted by a musty aroma that was explained as she took in the piles of dirty shirts and trousers in the corner of the room. The sheets on the bed were crumpled but when she approached she smelled washing powder. The rest of the house was a pigsty but the bedsheets were clean, Chrissy took a moment to wonder what that said about a man like Gene Hunt. Hearing the kettle click she picked up the pile of unwashed clothes and headed towards the kitchen.

A knock at the door made her hesitate in the hallway. Deciding to ignore the caller she headed towards the kitchen.

"Gene?" The voice carried through the wooden door and into Chrissy's soul. It was her stepmother. Why was she here? Why was she not at the hospital? Did that mean that Gene was on his way here or looking for her at the hospital? She knocked on the door again.

"Gene, are you there? Christine?!" Chrissy could feel her arms begin to shake as she considered her options. Her only way out was through the front door, when she'd been boiling the kettle she'd noticed that a stack of boxes, what looked like files from the police station, had been stacked infront of the backdoor.

"Gene?" The handle rattled and then began to move. Chrissy stood frozen to the spot as the door opened and the polite lady, Alex, from the police station walked into the house, stopping when she saw Chrissy. Her eyes took in the pile of clothes in Chrissys arms, the white t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms that Gene had given her to wear and Chrissys own clothes spread out on the radiators to dry before she spoke.

"Christine?!" She closed the door behind her gently and moved towards Chrissy who took a step backwards. "Where is Gene?" Her eyes flickered towards the bedroom door that Chrissy had left open.

"Hospital."

"To see your step mother?"

Chrissy nodded before heading into the kitchen, walking diagonally so that her back was never to Alex. Keeping her eyes on the policelady she dropped the pile of clothes infront of the washing machine and moved towards the kettle.

"Are you making tea?" Alex asked her in a conversational tone. "Do you mind if I have one?"

Opening the cupboards Chrissy searched for a mug, unable to find one she moved to the sink and began washing one.

"Lives like a pig, doesn't he?" Alex laughed and headed over to the sink with her own dirty mug she'd picked up off the surface. Moving in to wash it her arm brushed Chrissy's and she jumped away, dropping the mug at the same time. They both looked at it, broken on the floor before Alex picked up a new one announcing that Gene would never notice that he had one mug missing, "Besides, it's one less for him to clear up!" She smiled at Chrissy as she bent down to pick up the broken mug from the floor. Unable to find a bin to put it in she placed the remains on the counter before busying herself making tea for both of them. Chrissy edged away slowly from the kitchen and hovered in the doorway, watching Alex move around the kitchen, from the surface to the fridge and then back again. She was already claiming it for herself. The way she moved reminded her of Barbara, confident, brazen, sickening. She turned towards Chrissy with a mug in her hand, "White? I couldn't see any sugar, but it's Gene so it's probably hiding somewhere.!"

Taking it carefully, without touching her hand, Chrissy wrapped her shivering fingers around the warmth of the mug.

"Has Gene spoken to you about what happened today?" Alex asked leaning back against the kitchen counter, her own mug of tea in her hands. Chrissy shook her head.

"Right!" Alex paused to sip her tea, "Why did he bring you here?" Chrissy shrugged her shoulders and lifted her mug to her mouth. The tea was too hot yet she gulped it down, burning her mouth and her throat in the process.

"What happened to your stepmother today, Christine?" When Chrissy didn't answer Alex put her mug down and took a step towards her. Her stomach lurched and Chrissy took a step backwards feeling the hard door frame against her back.

"Christine?"

Before Chrissy could react the front door banged open, rebounding off of the wall behind it. Both Chrissy and Alex jumped, looking towards the door. Gene Hunt stood in the door frame, eyes blazing.

"Does somebody want to tell me why the bloody hell there is a panda sitting outside my home?!"

"Gene!" Chrissy sank back against the wall as Alex rushed forwards to greet Gene, a slightly guilty look on her face.

"Drake! What the Bloody hell are you doing here?" His voice was rough and unforgiving until he saw Chrissy shrinking into the kitchen, "What's wrong?" He asked adressing Chrissy, "What's happened?!" He moved forwards, bypassing Alex and going to Chrissy's side. "Are you okay?" She nodded, not meeting his eye, hands still wrapped around the steaming mug of tea.

He turned to Alex, "Well?" Looking non plussed Alex looked from Gene to Chrissy and back to Gene again, "I just came to see what was happening. You drove away before we had the chance to ask."

"WE?"

Gene walked back towards the front door that was still lying open, the reflected blue lights of the panda were flashing in the rain on the door. "We are fine, Drake. We don't need any assistance at this moment. Thank you for your concern and Goodnight!" He held the door open for her, and when she didn't move, walked towards her and pulled on her elbow.

"Gene? I think we need to talk about this." She lowered her voice, "You can't have the main suspect in an attack sleeping in your house!" Gene frog marched her to the front door but Chrissy could still hear her protesting, "Or is she sleeping in your bed?" He didn't justify the last remark with an answer, just helped her over the doorframe and shut the door behind it, turned the key in the lock and turned to Chrissy, "Blimey! And I thought you're stepmother was bad!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chrissy sat on the sofa, her knees curled up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. Gene sat across from her. He hadn't said anything since

Alex had left. He'd poured them a drink each, put Chrissy's on the coffe table that stood in the middle of both of them and then sat on the arm chair facing

her. Taking a drink, his eyes stayed on Chrissy's face. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she waited out the different emotions that were flashing across his face. He'd gone to see 'her'. What had she told him? Watching his face she waited for the disapointment, the disgust, the hatred, the repulsion that she so often saw on her father's face after time spent with 'her'. She saw none of these. What she did see made the hairs on her arms stand up, her heart flutter and hammer all in one beat. She saw sadness and kindness and worry. Three things that she had never seen before in the face of a man.

Her heart ached as she knew she had to break the silence. Leaning forward she lowered her legs and picked up her glass. Tilting her head back she drank

the amber coloured liquid in one. It burned her throat and made her cough, banging at her chest she put the glass down and looked up at Gene, he was

smiling. "Top of the range, one of a kind, bottle of shite!" He drank his down and held the empty glass in his hand. Eyes never leaving Chrissy's.

"What did she say?"

A full minute passed before Gene sighed, put down his glass and leant towards Chrissy. "She said, and I quote 'She chased away her fathers love for her

by screwing around'."

His words hit Chrissy like a blow to the face. It was like she was there in the room. A dark presence standing over her, reeking of her cheap perfume and

cheap wine.

Chrissy struggled to think of the right things to say, what words she could use to let him know that the person her step mother spoke of wasn't who

Chrissy really was, but the words stuck in her throat. There wasn't anything that Chrissy could say that would change the mind of someone that had been

tainted by the vicous words spoken by 'her'. Chrissy lay her head onto her hands and pictured her step mother. The person that had stolen her father, her

youth, her virginity.

"I tell you, she does like to hear the sound of her own voice that one."

Lifting her head Chrissy stared at Gene. He stood and refilled his glass from the bottle on the sideboard, holding it up to her as an invitation for another

drink and taking her silence as confirmation. He filled it and sat down heavily on the coffee table infront of Chrissy.

"Tell me what she did to you."

His blue eyes looked into Chrissy's. They were bloodshot and the lids heavy, yet awake and alert. He sipped his glass before setting it down beside him and

reaching for her. His mouth turned upwards slightly as she let his hands hold hers.

"I want to help you, Chrissy, but I can't do anything without you." Chrissy heard the compassion in his voice, but was looking at her hands in his instead of

at his face. "Tell me what she did to you!"

Chrissy could feel her head shake before she had registered his request. How could you put into words what her step mother had done to her? How could

you explain everything that she had done, and yet she had never laid one finger on her? From the age of fifteen Barbara had destroyed Chrissy inside and

out. Had given her to men. For money and gifts and favours. She had broken Chrissy's body and soul and then turned the one person she had in the world

against her. Turned the love that her father once had for her into revulsion. Her body ached from the most recent 'transaction'. The one that had caused

Chrissy to finally turn on her step mother. Her ribs were bruised and her skin blistered. She was ashamed and yet it was the only way to show Gene. She

didn't have the words but she could show him. Let him know.

Never taking her eyes from Gene's she withdrew her hands from his and moved forwards on the sofa, her knees touching his. His eyes watched her warily

as she grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and lifted it over her head before he had a chance to react.

"Chrissy..."

Holding the t-shirt against herself Chrissy turned to the side and waited while his eyes skimmed the surface of her skin. Taking in the thin white lines of old

scars, the deep purple bruising over-lapping the fading yellow bruises that ran the length of her rib cage. She sensed rather than felt his arms move

towards her body, turning her at the shoulders so that she was facing him head on. She heard him draw in a breath as he lifted a finger to touch the old

cigarette burn scar that was centered on her chest, surrounded by the eight or ten new burns that were brand new.

She didn't realise that she was shaking, didn't know that her eyes were shut tight until she felt a blanket being wrapped around her. It was only when

she opened her eyes and looked into his face that she realised she was crying. Hot tears poured down her cheeks as she sat before the one man, the one

person, in this world that she knew she could trust. He touched her face, his gentle fingers trailing the tears as they ran to her chin. Her head was

suddenly drowsy and her eyelids heavy. He cleared a space for her on the couch and then laid her down on her side, disapearing for a minute before

returning with another blanket. As she curled into a ball she was vaguely aware of him kneeling down beside her, she felt lips press against her temple and

a finger wiping away the last of the tears that fell from her eyes. As she slipped into an exhausted slumber she heard him growl, "I'll get her, Chrissy.

Just you wait. I'll get the bitch!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Seven **

The traffic lights changed to red and Gene had stopped the Quattro before realising his own mistake. 'Bloody Hell' he thought to himself slamming the car into first gear and screeching away from the lights, evoking horn blasts from all sides which he rewarded with his own two-fingered salute. Stopping at red lights, what next? Visions of himself standing patiently in line, or worse, settling his bar tab at Luigis entered his mind. Giving himself a mental he shake he pulled up infront of the station and cut the engine. He knew what was wrong with him this morning, the old arm chair in his living room wasn't very forgiving. After Chrissy had fallen into a heavy sleep, he'd finished the rest of the bottle, before settling into his own disturbed sleep, unable to leave her alone. He'd dreamt of colours and faces. Purples, yellows and blood red crossing over each other, melting into the faces of Chrissy, Barbara Stephfield and finally Drake. He'd woken with a need to find her and explain. Tell her why he'd taken Chrissy home, convince her to take back that look she'd given him before he'd shut the door in her face. The only trouble with his theory was that he didn't know what had prompted him to let Chrissy into his car, his house and inevitability into his heart.

With an infuriated and hungover sigh, Gene lay his head back on the leather seat and shut his eyes. The look on her face when he'd walked into her house had caused his heart to jolt, she had looked at him like a frightened deer caught in headlights when their eyes met. And she'd bloody ran like one. She had been terrified when he'd cornered her in the alleyway. Kicking, fighting, anything to keep him away from her. But it wasn't until after she had hugged him yesterday, infront of her dad and the rest of CID, did he see the sheer terror in her eyes. It was then that he knew he was in trouble! That he would do anything to take away that fear. He had left Luigi's last night with the intention of paying the Stephfield family a friendly home visit. He was thinking about seeing Chrissy in her own home, wanting to judge her behaviour away from the prying eyes of CID, when she'd stepped out on the street in front of him. He had gone about it the wrong way, he knew that, seen it written on Drake's face. Seen what conclusions she was srawing from his actions. But seeing Chrissy standing in the rain looking at him like his eyes were the only ones that Chrissy could lift her head to look into...well, that had made the decision for him.

She was still asleep on the sofa when he'd woken this morning. He convinced himself that she looked less tense, less fearful of the world and had written her note to say where he'd be if she needed him. Ha! Gene Hunt, a note writing, damsel in distress rescuer! That was all he needed to get 'round the streets of London. Feeling the sun on his face he opened his eyes and saw that the grey clouds were beginning to lift. He banged the stearing wheel and got out of the car, bracing himself for the "Wrath of Drake," and headed into the nick.

* * *

A dark cloud sat over the CID room. For the majority of detectives, those with their heads on their desks, alcohol played a large part of it. But for the four sitting around Alex's desk, worry and uncertainty and fear of what they might discover today made up their cloud. All four had seen the Guv with Chrissy, all four knew that he had taken her home with him and all four had formed their own opinions of what might have happened last night. Anyone watching them would be forgiven for thinking that they were watching an invisable game of tennis as their eyes went from the Guv's door to the main door and back again. Over and over again.

As familiar footsteps echoed up the corridor outside the office everyone sat up a little straighter. Some people picked up the phone, others a pen, all intent on looking busy. The four around Alex's desk shrank a little lower in their seats, just seconds ago they hoped that the Guv was here and now that he was outside they were all equally afraid of what they would see when he walked in the door.

The double swing doors burst open and Gene Hunt stood apraising the mood of the office with a quick sweep of his eyes. He strode towards his office, not making eye contact with anyone, every step thundered through the silence of the room, bouncing off of walls and hungover heads. His door rattled on it's hinges as he threw it open infront of him and slammed it behind him. In the emptiness that followed the detectives put their pens, phones and heads back onto their desks. All except the four nearest the still vibrating door. They met each others eyes, looking to see if anyone had deciphered the Guv's behaviour. Alex opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by the door being pulled open.

"Shaz, tea! Drake, office! Everone else....try to look like you are keeping the streets of London safe!"

Relief washed over Alex, Ray, Chris and Shaz. Their smiles not lasting long as the Guv's voice boomed out of his office. "I may not look it, but I'm not getting any younger. Drake! Get you arse in here!"


End file.
